


Five Years Later - The North

by RainCS



Category: The Two Princes (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Five Years Later, Fluff, Gen, Heartlanders, Kingdom of the Heartland, M/M, Other, Post-Canon, husband kings, kings madly in love, worried husbands
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-07-31 00:49:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20106424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainCS/pseuds/RainCS
Summary: Five years after their victory in the Hollow, Rupert and Amir are happily married and successfully running their Kingdom. Life is mostly good, and when it isn't, they still have each other.The calm hustle and bustle of daily life in the Heartland gets interrupted one day by the arrival of a messenger - from the Queendom of the North.ORRupert has nightmares, Amir has worries, and both are madly in love with each other.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [All the Heartlanders](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=All+the+Heartlanders).

> I have never written a long, multi-chapter fic before and it's totally self indulgent and ambitious what with me inventing a third kingdom and also an original POV character, but I hope you'll still enjoy this possible future I've dreamed up for out favorite princes!!!! Thanks for giving me a chance, let me know if you want me to keep posting chapters!

**Chapter One**

Rupert jerked awake covered in cold sweat. He tried taking a deep breath, and then another, but his heart wouldn’t stop pounding and his lungs burned for oxygen. His skin still felt icy cold, and the familiar voice that filled him with dread still echoed inside his head. It always took a while to shake off after he woke up.

Rupert nearly had a heart attack when he noticed the empty space next to him on the bed, but one touch told him the sheets were still warm. He had been there, not too long ago. Rupert rubbed at his eyes and kept forcing himself to take breaths. The voice slowly faded back into his dreams.

He jumped when the door opened, but relief flooded through him when he saw Amir enter, Fitzroy trotting in behind him. The dog scampered happily back to his bed in the corner, and Amir untied the robe he had wrapped tightly around him. When he closed the door and turned to see Rupert sitting on the bed, he froze just long enough to take in the situation.

“Crap.”

Amir ran across the floor and hurried into bed, his arms around Rupert in seconds, cuddling him close.

“By the gods, you’re shaking.” Amir kissed the top of Rupert’s head.

Rupert hadn’t even noticed. The shaking was both from fear and the freezing cold that pieced him every time this happened. He could feel his body calm and thaw at Amir’s mere presence, though, and buried himself against his husband.

“I woke up and –” Rupert’s voice was trembling, too.

“If I thought you’d wake up, I would have let one of the guards take Fitzroy out. He was pawing at the door; I didn’t want him to bother you.” Amir took Rupert’s hand and kissed it, then tilted Rupert’s head to face him so he could reach his lips.

As always, Amir’s lips seemed to revive Rupert, washing away the cold shadows and making the room feel bright as day even in the middle of the night.

“It’s been so long since I had one of these,” Rupert said, and though he knew Amir could hear his apologetic tone, he thankfully didn’t comment. Amir hated when Rupert apologized for this. “I thought maybe they were over.”

“Yeah, me, too.” Amir kissed him again, and leaned back, pulling Rupert with him until the two lay side by side on their bed. Amir wrapped around his husband as if to shield him from all the world.

When Amir spoke again, Rupert could hear a smile creeping into his voice. “It’s after midnight. Happy fourth anniversary.”

Rupert groaned. “What a romantic way to start it.”

“Hey, getting to be there for you when things are hard is part of the vow I made, and I am happy to keep it. There is nothing I love more than you, and that includes nights like this.”

“How do you still manage to make me fall in love with you every time you open your mouth?” Rupert asked.

“Because I am very good with my mouth.”

That made Rupert laugh, and he lifted himself to give Amir another kiss, this one rougher, more passionate. Amir had once again driven the bad dreams away, and now there was only him and the love they shared.

“Four years,” Rupert said, marveling at the concept. “For four years I’ve gotten to call you my husband. How insane is that? As if the whole king thing isn’t weird enough, and at least I had a lifetime to get used to that idea. If anyone had told me this would happen before I went into the forest that night, I would have laughed in their faces.”

His expression darkened. He hadn’t meant to bring up the forest, but he had, and here it was, his pulse picking up again and his hands shaking. Amir squeezed them against his chest.

“Speaking of anniversaries.”

Rupert didn’t want to have this conversation, but he stayed silent, allowing Amir to go on.

“Rupert, we need to talk about this. You started having these dreams exactly three years after the Hollow. We’re coming up on five.”

“We don’t know if that has anything to do w – “

“But it doesn’t seem too outlandish, does it? Not in the world we live in, not with everything we’ve been through.”

“Amir, I don’t want to talk about this.”

“I know.” Amir’s voice became gentle. “And I’ll stop, for now. But Fitz, we need to talk seriously about this. I think we should bring it to the others.”

“I don’t want to worry anyone!” Rupert protested. “We don’t even know if this means anything. Maybe it’s just my head dealing with the past. You know that’s what my mom will say.”

“Sweetheart, Lavinia is the queen of denial and you know it. But the others could offer perspective. And even if it is just your mind being haunted by the past,” Amir kissed Rupert’s forehead, “then I still want them to know. You don’t need to be in physical danger to deserve help from the people who love you, Rupert.”

Rupert didn’t answer, because he knew Amir was right, and they fell into a comfortable silence. Rupert was afraid to fall asleep again, and he knew Amir knew it, so when Amir once again kissed him with reignited passion, Rupert eagerly allowed the distraction, accepting the gift his husband offered. They made love until they were both spent and exhausted enough to slip effortlessly into sleep, and when they did, Rupert’s mind was filled with nothing but bliss until morning.

*

The Anniversary Tour had been Queen Lavinia’s idea, and even Amir had to agree that it was one of her best. Amir had great respect for his mother-in-law, but they were not the most similar people. However, her suggestion that the royal couple begin their every wedding anniversary with an open carriage tour along the main road of their kingdom was a brilliant way for them to greet their people, and for the people to give them their well-wishes. Amir enjoyed this yearly tradition that allowed them to be close to their subjects. Or, as he liked to say, their rulers.

_The people are the true rulers; the Crown is their most loyal subject_. It was one of his mother’s favorite sayings.

Today, though, the Tour did not give Amir the same joy as the previous three years. The journey was pleasant and the people were kind, handing them flowers and congratulations every time they slowed or stopped, but every time he blinked, Amir could see Rupert’s face from the night before.

Gods, how he hated seeing Rupert so afraid. Regardless of what anyone else thought, Rupert was one of the bravest people Amir had ever met, and seeing him terrified, ripped apart by nightmares, made Amir feel helpless.

Sitting beside him now, Amir couldn’t help holding his husband’s hand too tightly as their carriage trundled on. Rupert occasionally asked him to ease up so the blood could flow back into his fingers, but he never complained or asked him to let go. Rupert knew he needed this. He always knew what Amir needed, no matter how large or small. It made Amir feel that much worse that he didn’t know how to fix this, how to help or make it stop.

Their lives were good. The kingdom was healthy, the people prosperous and happy. The initial turmoil from the unification of two kingdoms had passed. Sure, there were unhappy factions, nobles secretly plotting treason and farmers on the outskirts constantly calling for lower taxes, but these were all things the Kingdoms of the East and West had been dealing with before, and would no doubt be dealing with in the future. Overall, there was peace, and life was good.

If only it wasn’t for these damned dreams...

“Your Majesties!”

Amir was pulled out of his thoughts by a familiar voice approaching the carriage, which was currently parked by a fountain square in what used to be the Kingdom of the West.

“Sir Joan!” Amir greeted as they came up on Rupert’s side of the carriage. They looked out of breath from running, but remained standing straight-shouldered without leaning against the royal carriage. Their professionalism always astounded Amir. Even though they were one of their closest friends and advisers, Joan never let formality drop in public.

“What’s wrong?” Rupert asked, instantly concerned.

“I’m sorry to interrupt the Tour, Your Majesties,” Joan said through heavy breaths, “but a messenger arrived at the palace shortly after your departure, and you’re going to want to speak with her as soon as possible.”

Amir and Rupert exchanged a quick glance, and Rupert nodded.

“We will return to the palace right away,” Amir agreed.

Rupert opened the door on his side. “Accompany us, please,” he said to Joan. “Let your horse rest.”

Amir recognized Joan’s horse on the other side of the square, looking just as tired as her rider. Amir noted Rupert’s choice of words. If Joan suspected he invited them to ride in the carriage purely for their own convenience, they would refuse. For the sake of their horse, however, they could be persuaded.

Joan still hesitated for a moment, then agreed, ordering one of the guards accompanying the Tour to take their horse back at a slow pace, then ordered another to continue the route of the Tour and offer apologies to the people the kings would not have time to greet.

Very good, Amir thought. He had been about to do the same.

Once the three of them were in the carriage moving back towards their home, Amir started with his questions.

“Who is this messenger? Is she reliable? What makes her news so urgent?”

Rupert squeezed his hand. “Let them breathe for a second, partner.”

“No, he’s right,” Joan said. “This is important. The messenger is from the Queendom of the North.”

“The…“ Amir trailed of and exchanged a shocked look with Rupert. “But the North is – “

“Extremely far away!” Rupert finished, probably aiming to save time and interrupt before Amir could declare _exactly_ how far away the Queendom of the North was, and how long it took to travel there – which he had definitely been about to do.

“I don’t think anyone has had any interaction with them since our fathers first began their rule,” Amir said. “Why would they reach out now? What is so urgent?”

“She refuses to tell the details to anyone but the King,” Joan said pointedly, which meant that they had spent a lot of energy trying to convince the messenger otherwise. It also meant that the messenger was not fully informed if she thought the Heartland had only one king. “All she would tell us is that it’s a matter of life and death for everyone in the North, and if you don’t hear her out, the danger could end up spreading to the Heartland.”

“Ravi,” Amir shouted to the driver of their carriage. “As much speed as you can manage, if you please. We need to get home as fast as the horses can take us.”

As the carriage picked up speed, Amir and Rupert once again locked eyes, their hands still clenched together. The night’s events were at the forefront of their minds. Amir knew exactly what Rupert was trying very hard not to think about.

“We don’t know if this is related,” Amir said quickly.

“That sounds like what I would usually be saying to you right about now,” Rupert pointed out. “Which is the easiest way to tell that you’re lying.”

“Your Majesties?” Joan looked at them both in question.

“Sorry, Joan,” Rupert said. His eyes, already reflecting some of the night’s shadows, turned from Amir to Joan. “Once we know what this is about, it’s possible we all need to have a very long conversation.”

*

Eyvor was disappointed with the Heartland Kingdom. Disappointed, because she had expected to detest it, but found that she couldn’t.

After her journey through hungry seas and treacherous wastelands, from the moment she entered the borders of the Heartland, Eyvor had seen nothing but beauty. Villages she passed through were full of healthy-looking people going about their work freely and happily. The few people she’d seen looking hungry and cold hadn’t stayed that way long, as people dressed in garb indicating representatives of the Crown would offer them temporary shelter and help. There was an overabundance of trees in seemingly random places, but otherwise everything was idyllic.

This wasn’t what Eyvor had expected. She had expected to be apprehended at the border and viciously escorted past crumbling villages overgrown with forest, filled with miserable citizens that threw rotten food at her until she was tossed at the feet of the King of the Heartland where they would torture information out of her.

No one she’d come across so far looked capable of torturing information out of anyone. Except perhaps that one older knight who had been assigned to keep an eye on her. She would have been insulted that she was left in a pretty room, hands and feet untied, with only one man to guard her, if it didn’t display a certain level of respect that she appreciated.

The knight was clearly not satisfied with his assignment, grumbling to himself every so often, but he was taking it seriously. His eyes rarely left Eyvor, and his gaze was always suspicious, which was even more unnerving coming from his scarred face on top of a heavy, muscular body. Everything about him screamed of experience and potential ruthlessness.

The knight who had questioned Eyvor after her arrival, trying to get the message out of her, had more of a professional atmosphere about them, had been firm but respectful in a way that made Eyvor think that the knight was very good at their job. They were younger than this angry gentleman, though, and Eyvor wondered how such a young knight had claimed seniority. There must be a good story there.

Eyvor loved a good story.

It had been a while since the other knight left, and Eyvor was starting to get restless. Sitting still was not something she did a lot. Her leg was shaking, to the clear annoyance of the knight guarding her. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the door to the pretty visitor’s room opened, but instead of the King she had been led to believe was being fetched, in walked a regal-looking woman in a gorgeous lavender pantsuit.

She marched straight up to Eyvor’s chair and stopped in front of her, scrutinizing the younger woman.

“Yes, you are clearly of the North,” the woman stated with an attractive accent. So far, everyone spoke in a language Eyvor understood, which led her to believe the rumors were true about how the same people who first founded the kingdoms in this part of the world also settled the North.

Eyvor wasn’t surprised at the positive identification of her nationality. Eyvor was ten times paler than anyone she had seen in this kingdom; her hair was yellow as straw and her eyes sky blue. These were not combinations commonly seen around here.

“I believe I introduced myself as such,” Eyvor said, keeping her chin and shoulders straight under the woman’s intense stare. “Are you the regent of this kingdom? I was led to believe there would be a king in charge. I apologize if I was misinformed.”

“I would be very interested in knowing where you got your information.”

“That’s not an answer to my question.”

“No,” the woman said sternly. “It isn’t.” She looked to be considering something, then she marched back towards the door, pausing by the guard. “Their Majesties will return shortly. If they come here first, inform me the moment they arrive; I need to speak to them before they see her.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” the knight said. So the woman wasn’t the ruler of the Kingdom, but she was certainly someone of authority. She exited the room, and once again, Eyvor was left waiting.

She felt the time crawling by like something sticky against her skin. She really didn’t have time for this.

Neither did her home. 

*

Upon their arrival at the castle, Amir had gone with Joan to help track down the Queen mothers, which left Rupert alone in their office awaiting their return. Rupert hated how his hands shook again the moment Amir wasn’t there to hold them. Early in their relationship, he might have thought of it as a weakness, how much he needed Amir around when things were bad, how everything was better when he was there, but now he knew better. They were stronger together, and there was no weakness in that. Rupert just hated his hands for shaking so much.

Since Amir was currently unavailable, Rupert settled for the second best thing. He opened the large window of the office, leaned out and whistled once, loudly.

He waited.

Seconds later, the familiar flapping of wings approached, and Porridge came flying around the side of the palace and settled on the ground outside the office. Rupert had insisted their office be placed on a low enough floor that Porridge could look through the window – he was as big as a four-horse drawn carriage - and he was glad for it now as the dragon leaned his head on the windowsill and made a purring sound when Rupert scratched beneath his chin.

“Hey, buddy,” Rupert said fondly. Porridge’s large eyes filled with curiosity, and once he sensed that his momma was trembling, his tongue stuck out and applied a reassuring trail of sticky saliva up Rupert’s sleeve.

“I’m alright,” Rupert said. “Or, okay, I will be. It just… it feels like something is starting, you know? Something big. And I’m not sure I’m ready for this part to be over yet, you know? This quiet part where our lives are just good and nice and we get to enjoy it and rule in peace. I feel like everything is about to change, and it scares me. I don’t want to face all these things.”

Porridge made a rumbling sound and leaned into Rupert’s hand, small against the grown dragon’s cheek. At least he had stopped growing now, Rupert thought. “Do you remember when you could fit on top of my head?” Rupert mused. In reply, Porridge blew heavily through his nose, ruffling Rupert’s hair and bringing a laugh out of his momma. “You’re still the cutest little dragon, even if you’re not so little anymore.”

Porridge made a happy noise before they both started as the office door opened and Amir walked in, accompanied by Sir Joan, Queen Atossa, and Rupert’s mother, Queen Lavinia.

Amir was by Rupert’s side in a heartbeat, hand in his and the other giving Porridge a loving scratch on the neck.

“Sorry, boy,” Amir told the dragon. “Momma and mommy need to have a serious talk. We’ll come play with you later.”

Trusting his mommy implicitly, Porridge moved away from the window and flew off on wide wings.

Rupert kissed Amir’s hand before they both turned to face their gathered council. Well, most of the council.

“Where is Cecily?” Rupert asked.

“The second the messenger arrived, Lady Cecily took off to backtrack the likely route she travelled,” Joan replied. “She wanted to stop by a few nearby villages to see if anyone interacted with the messenger, maybe she told someone something about her reasons that we can use to match up with the messenger's story.”

“Smart,” Amir said. Rupert knew the surprise in his voice wasn’t meant as an insult of Cecily, but he still gave Joan an apologetic look, though they didn’t seem to need one. Joan always heard things as they were intended.

“So, fill us in.” Amir and Rupert sat down at the head of the grand table, and the others joined them around it.

“The messenger arrived shortly after you left for the Tour,” Queen Atossa said. “She has only spoken with the Knight Champion, and is currently being guarded by Sir Percy. I went to see her, as well, to confirm she was indeed from the North.”

“You did what?” Amir exclaimed. It took a lot for him to raise his voice to his mother, but this did it.

“I did not want you to waste your time if she was lying.” Atossa was impervious to her son’s chastising. “She is certainly from the North, that much is true. Her appearance is unmistakable, as is her attire. I remember well how they looked.”

“But we have no idea why she is here?” Queen Lavinia finally spoke. “The last time either of the two old kingdoms heard from the North was decades ago! And the agreement reached during that brief summit was that we stick to our part of the world and they stick to theirs.”

“Which is why this must be urgent,” Atossa said.

“Then we should speak to her immediately,” Amir nodded along to his mother’s words.

“I don’t like giving her access to our kings when we have no idea what to expect,” Lavinia held her ground. She wasn’t the first to willingly take part in complicated matters of state, but she was a good queen and an overprotective mother.

“I am also hesitant,” Atossa said. “From what little I remember, Northerners should not be easily trusted. My bastard husband always thought they agreed to the peace treaty a little too quickly, and I agree. I would feel much more comfortable if we could get some useful information about what this is about before we granted the messenger’s request to see you.”

Silence covered the table as they all considered her words.

“Actually, I might have an idea what this is about.”

Rupert’s quiet voice made every eye turn to him, because Rupert wasn’t normally quiet. He hadn’t really meant to speak the words, not yet, but with every second that passed, Rupert feared going to sleep that night so much that he could already feel the cold seeping into his bones, could almost hear that dreaded voice in his head…

Never in his life had Rupert been more grateful for Amir’s hand in his, for the feeling of safety that came from just having him there beside him. He angled himself slightly in his chair so their knees touched under the table, like he used to do before they were married. He glanced at Amir out of the corner of his eye and saw a small, barely perceptible nod. Amir was right there, supporting his decision whatever it was.

No matter what happened next, no matter how difficult the words were, Rupert had to believe they would get through this. Together.

“I’ve been having these dreams,” he said.

_To be continued_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rupert shares his recurring dream, and the two kings finally meet this stranger from the North

**Chapter Two**

For the first two years and three-hundred-and-sixty-four days after they two princes defeated their fathers in the Hollow, Rupert didn’t fear going to sleep.

Sure, he often dreamt that he was back in the Hollow, and about fighting Amir, about the possibility that one of them killed the other, but he always felt that was normal. Amir had dreams like that, too. They talked about it sometimes, and eventually those dreams faded. Rupert was never afraid that those dreams would come, because he knew they were dreams, knew he would wake up and everything would be alright.

Then he went to sleep on the night exactly three years after the battle in the Hollow, on the eve of both his and Amir’s birthday, and everything changed. From then on, Rupert would not feel safe going to sleep again.

It had started as a sort of empty, floating feeling. It felt pleasant at first, but then the nothing became too vast, too heavy, so heavy it felt like Rupert’s head was pounding. He couldn’t feel his arms, his legs, nothing except the pounding in his head, and then suddenly the nothingness turned cold. Freezing cold, seeping into every part of him. His blood felt frozen, his skin felt like it was cracking, his insides were drying out and freezing up and it just kept getting colder and colder like he was surrounded by ice. Then came the voice.

_Rupert_…

The voice was a soft hiss at first, so low he could barely hear it over the cold. Then, louder.

_Rupert, my boy…_

Rupert recognized the voice this time, and the cold in his body was nothing compared to the cold in his heart at the sound of that horrible, rasping voice, the voice that sounded like sap trickling out of an old tree.

_No, no, no, no, no,_ Rupert thought to himself. _You’re not real. You’re gone. You’re dead._

_Am I?_ the voice asked. _Are you certain? I vanished, yes, but am I truly gone?_

_Yes_! Rupert wanted to scream the word but his mouth was frozen shut and it was just so cold.

_You don’t sound certain, _the voice replied. _You stupid boy. Thinking you could defeat me with what? With love? Thought that would do it, did you? You didn’t think I would just slither away to hide somewhere else? _

_You are not real! _Rupert’s thoughts shouted against the frozen insides of his skull, but both the painful ice and the gravelly words felt so real. Too real. And Rupert couldn’t move, couldn’t pull away from it.

_Of course I am, Rupy, my boy. I am as real as I was when we met on your eighteenth birthday, and you will make me as real as I was the day before you were born._

_You’re dead, _Rupert insisted into the cold blackness, but even his own thoughts were starting to doubt. The pain from the ice felt much too real to be imagined.

_You will help me become whole again, Rupert, _the voice said.

_I would never help you, you monster_!

_Then I will find a way to start killing again, Rupy. I will find a way, and every life lost will be on your conscience until you help me become whole. I’m your problem, Rupert. Anyone who dies now is a result of your cowardice… You always were… such a disappointment as a son…_

The cold and black, the nothingness, the voice, it pressed down on Rupert until he couldn’t take it anymore, until he thought his mind or body might break, and he pushed against it with every ounce of strength he had inside of him.

That was the first night he had woken up crying and screaming, the feeling of cold still in his veins and the voice of his father still echoing in his ears. It was the first night Amir had held Rupert tightly to warm and calm him. He had to remind Rupert several times where he was and what was real, until finally Rupert believed him and was able to put words to what he just experienced.

The next night, the same thing happened again.

Every time the dream came, it felt more real. Every time, Rupert thought the cold would kill him, thought his father’s voice would drive him mad, that the darkness around him would swallow him whole. But every time, he woke up and Amir was there.

Eventually the dreams had stopped coming every night, then less than once a week, and then only a few times a month. But no matter how rarely they came, Rupert couldn’t stop being afraid whenever he closed his eyes at night.

“Last night was the first time in almost six months.” This came from Amir, because Rupert had stopped talking after first describing the nightmare. He couldn’t quite bring himself to say anything else. “We thought maybe they had stopped for good…”

“Oh, Rupert…” Lavinia clearly wanted to get up and embrace her son, and honestly so did everyone else judging by their expression, but Rupert was grateful that they all stayed put. He didn’t want to look at anyone, and he couldn’t stomach anyone’s pitying touch, no one’s touch but Amir’s.

“What makes you tell us this now?” Atossa asked gently. “What is the connection to the Northerner?”

“We don’t get winters cold enough for what Rupert feels in these dreams,” Amir said, waiting for everyone to catch on. “They do in the North.”

Everyone was silent for what seemed to Rupert a very long time.

“You think these dreams,” Joan finally said carefully, “are real?”

“They’re real.” Rupert hadn’t even meant to speak, but he did. “Maybe it’s not my father talking to me, but it’s something, and it’s using his voice. It’s dangerous and bloodthirsty and cold, and it wants something from me, and it will kill until it gets it. I know the difference between dream and reality. This isn’t just a dream.”

There was another silence as everyone considered this. Amir, gods bless him, showed no doubt. Nothing about his look, his attitude, indicated for a second that he didn’t believe Rupert. They sat together and waited.

“Well,” Queen Atossa finally said. “I suppose it’s time you speak to this messenger from the North.”

*

Eyvor had actually fallen asleep in her chair. Anyone who ever trained her in anything would be so disappointed, but honestly, this place just wasn’t very threatening. It was all cozy and welcoming, even just this random waiting room. If the rest of the castle was like this, maybe that was why the whole kingdom seemed so peaceful. Happy king, happy kingdom? If her parent heard her think that, she’d get a smack on the head.

She jerked upright at the sound of doors, and opened her eyes to see two young men enter. One was taller, with dark curly hair and beautiful dark skin and a stunning sword strapped to his hip, the golden hilt engraved with twirling patterns. His deep blue clothes were elegant and layered, embroidered with golden thread in pretty patterns around the edges, nearly matching the hilt of his weapon.

The other young man was a little shorter, with white skin that seemed almost dirty compared to the snowy white of Eyvor’s own, and he had curly brown hair with streaks of red, and pretty eyes. While his clothes were also of high quality, they weren’t as aesthetic as the other man, and this one wasn’t wearing a sword, just a knife that looked uncomfortable dangling from his belt.

Both of them were incredibly beautiful, striking in their own way, and Eyvor knew she was in the presence of royalty. As she appraised them, she could tell they were doing the same. Both of them seemed struck by her appearance. They were too young to have ever met a Northerner before, so her skin must seem impossibly pale to them, her yellow hair and blue eyes striking. She sat a little taller in her seat; royalty or not, she was here representing the Queendom of the North, and she would do so proudly. She stood to greet them.

“Which one of you is the King of the Heartland?” she asked. If they were surprised that she spoke first, they didn’t show it.

“We both are,” said the tall, elegant one. He took the hand of the other man. “I am Amir, King of the Heartland, and this is my husband, Rupert.”

“Also King of the Heartland,” the other man added, lifting Amir’s hand to give it a light kiss.

Eyvor’s heart did a little flip at this easy display of affection, but otherwise remained unaffected by this news. So there were two kings instead of one. If this was the extent to which Eyvor was misinformed, she could certainly live with that.

“Now,” Amir said, fixing Eyvor with a serious gaze. “Perhaps you would like to introduce yourself. We are eager to hear your message.”

Since none of their hands were on their weapons and they did not seem intent on threatening her, Eyvor stood up from her chair and held her hand out towards the two kings. The older knight by the door tensed at her movement, but that was all.

“My name is Eyvor, I work in the royal household of the Queendom of the North. I am here on behalf of the Queen to ask for assistance.”

King Amir, the elegant one, took a moment to consider, but King Rupert, the pretty one, let go of his husband’s hand and shook Eyvor’s extended one without any hesitation.

“Welcome to the Heartland, Eyvor,” he said, nothing in his voice but warmth. He gave King Amir a sideways glance, and he stepped forward, too.

“Yes, welcome,” he said, his voice warier as he shook Eyvor’s hand, but no less kind.

Eyvor hadn’t been sure what to expect when she extended her hand, but she felt like it had been a test that they had all either passed or failed. Their homelands had never really been at war, exactly – they were too far apart for that – but from her history lessons, Eyvor knew they had never exactly been on friendly terms. Cultural differences, apparently. But Eyvor had been able to shake hands with these foreigners in greeting, so they couldn’t be all that different, could they?

“Now that we got the pleasantries out of the way,” Eyvor said, reminding herself of the urgency of her situation. “Is there somewhere we can talk, uhm…” She eyed the knight. “Privately?”

Kings Amir and Rupert exchanged a long look, then nodded to each other.

“Sir Percy, you may leave,” King Amir told the knight by the door.

“I beg your pardon?” Sir Percy asked, and Eyvor was stunned to hear him address his monarch with so little respect.

“We’ve got this, Percy,” King Rupert said harshly, though he didn’t seem the type to say things harshly. “We will summon Sir Joan if we need anything. Thank you.”

The thank you was so pointedly a dismissal that the knight didn’t even reply, but left the room in a huff. This knight really didn’t have much honor, did he? It was surprising the kings kept him around at all.

Once they were alone, King Amir led the way to a small table with three comfortable chairs facing each other. Eyvor probably could have waited in those chairs, but she had preferred the hard-backed desk chair. This one, she sank into and felt much less professional, but the kings managed to make it work, so she did, too.

“You told our Knight Champion that this was a matter of life and death,” King Amir began. “What exactly is happening in the Queendom of the North? What do you need our assistance with?”

Eyvor took a deep breath. “Allow me to start at the beginning….”

*

“It’s never really hot in the North,” Eyvor said, her voice light and delicate even though Amir didn’t think she meant for it to be. “Not even during summer months. Good weather in the North means you only have to wear two layers of clothing and no gloves.”

Amir knew what Rupert was thinking – that Amir always wore at least two layers of clothing, and could relate – but they both managed to keep looking at Eyvor and not laugh at each other.

“But over the past few years,” Eyvor said, and all humor vanished from both kings, “it has been getting colder. Not just colder in winter than it usually is in winter, I mean first it got colder, and then it _kept _getting colder, during spring, summer, it never thawed, it just got colder.”

Amir could practically feel Rupert’s body going still, and he automatically put his hand on Rupert’s knee. Rupert didn’t move to take it, but Amir knew he could feel him there. If Eyvor had anything to say about this change in body language, she didn’t say it out loud.

“At first it wasn’t so bad,” she continued. “We’re sturdy up North, used to rough temperatures; our lifestyle is built around it. But when it got so cold that our crops refused to grow, we knew we were in trouble. The ice got so thick was nearly impossible to get through it to fish. It’s gotten so bad we’ve had to crack open our emergency reserves, and those were essentially put aside for something like the end of the world.” Eyvor emphasized this last part heavily. “The entire Queendom is getting desperate, but then the Queen heard the stories about the princes of the East and West, who saved their own kingdoms from a horrible curse. The Queen started to think that maybe this sudden onset of cold was also some kind of curse. She thought maybe these princes, who were brave enough to fight for their own kingdoms, might also be brave enough to help us save our home. Especially since the cold isn’t even the worst part.”

She told a good story, Amir had to give her that. He was riveted despite the terror creeping down his spine. Her pause at this point meant he was supposed to ask what the worst part was. But he knew Rupert was waiting for him to ask another question first, and so he had to, even if they were both terrified of the answer.

“When did the temperature drop start?” He could barely get his words out, and this time Rupert’s hand moved to take Amir’s. Again, Eyvor didn’t comment, though she seemed a tad annoyed that Amir wasn’t following the flow of her story.

“It’s coming up on exactly two years now,” she said.

Her words echoed through Amir’s skull. He wished he could make them go away, wipe the words out of existence, make it so they never were. Before he could even look at Rupert, his husband spoke.

“What’s the worst part?”

Eyvor definitely noticed the way Rupert’s voice sounded weaker than she had heard it so far. Amir wasn’t sure if she could hear exactly how much pain Rupert put behind those four words.

“The cold has been attacking our people,” Eyvor replied gravely. “Every now and then, seemingly at random, the cold will congeal around a particular house or piece of land, and get so intense that the inhabitants all die in their sleep, frozen to death. No matter how well dressed they are, no matter how hot their fire roars. Nobody has been able to explain it, except it seems like the cold is somehow doing it on purpose.”

Her words hung in the room, none of them saying anything for a long while. Amir couldn’t take it. For once he didn’t care about decorum, not even in front of a representative from another land. He got out of his chair and sat on his knees in front of Rupert, taking his husband’s face between his hands.

“Rupert, look at me.” When he wasn’t obeyed, he tried again, louder. “Rupert! Look at me!”

Rupert’s eyes snapped to meet Amir’s, and the torment there nearly moved Amir to tears.

“This is not your fault,” Amir said, and never in his life had he wanted to be believed more. “There is no way you could have known, do you hear me? None of us could. This is not your fault!”

A tear spilled silently from one of Rupert’s eyes, and Amir caught it with his finger. He couldn’t take seeing that pain. He stood on his knees and pressed a soft kiss to Rupert’s lips, letting it linger there until he felt Rupert’s lips respond, if only a little. He just needed to know Rupert was still in there, that he could hear his words and feel his presence.

“Why, exactly,” Eyvor’s bell-like voice rang through room. “Would any of this be his fault?”

*

It took longer than Rupert would have thought for Amir to explain to Eyvor about his dreams. Rupert couldn’t bring himself to add anything; he was too frozen in place, as if the cold usually reserved for his nightmares now enveloped his waking body.

The other two were walking around the room, moving while talking. Well, Eyvor was moving, seemingly out of pure frustration, and Amir was following her around, staying between her and Rupert as if he feared she might attack.

Rupert wouldn’t blame her if she did.

Real people. Real people had died because he had been too terrified by these dreams to really try and figure out what they meant. He had ignored it, pretended he didn’t believe it, all because the cold and the darkness was so terrifying and he hated hearing the sound of his father’s voice. He had been just as weak as everyone always expected him to be, and people had died for it.

“How many?” He barely recognized the sound of his own voice.

“Did he say something?” the Northerner asked.

“How many died?” Rupert asked again, using all the energy he possessed to make his volume accessible to the human ear.

“Oh.”

They had been arguing somewhere behind him at the moment, and silence fell before Eyvor moved into Rupert’s vision, taking a seat in the chair opposite him. She sat at the very edge of the seat, and though she wasn’t a skinny creature like Rupert, she seemed very small to him when he looked up to face her.

She didn’t look angry as Rupert had expected. She just looked sad.

“Seventeen,” she said gravely. “One family of five, three separate pairs of farmers out guarding their flock, and an inn with six residents in it at the time, including the owners. We got lucky it didn’t happen during one of their busy seasons.”

Six people, lucky. Rupert supposed there could have been more, so in a way it sort of was. Didn’t feel very lucky, though.

Eyvor sighed deeply, rubbing her face like Rupert always did when he woke from a nightmare.

“Okay.” Another deep breath. “Okay, I need to think about this. We had our suspicions about the timing, but for there to be this much of a link…”

“Your Queendom doesn’t suspect that we have anything to do with this, do they?” Amir asked, sounding about ready to go to war if that was the case. “Because one person having one recurring dream doesn’t mean any of us could have foreseen this, and we would never do something like this on purpose.”

“Hey, relax, Your Highness.” Eyvor held up both hands in mock surrender. “I’m thinking out loud, that’s all. Her Majesty never thought the Heartland had done anything intentional, and having heard this new factor, I still agree with that. It’s just a lot.”

To Rupert’s utter surprise, Eyvor leaned forward and put her hand on Rupert’s. He was used to Amir’s hands, which were a bit bigger than his own, and it was strange to see this smaller, pale hand tentatively curl around his fingers.

“And I’m sure it’s been a lot for you, too. I can’t even imagine. It sounds… terrifying. I wouldn’t have known what to do with those kind of dreams, either. I don’t blame you, and neither will anyone in the North.” She looked from Rupert to Amir. “But I do think this means that you are indeed destined to help us. Don’t you agree?”

“Absolutely,” Amir agreed with no hesitation. “If helping you saves lives _and_ makes Rupert’s nightmares stop, then we are all in.” He looked at Rupert with all the faith in the world. Amir was the only one who always expected more of Rupert than he thought he could give. Amir never underestimated him. “Right?”

Such a little word, yet it made Rupert smile for a second. Amir had asked him that before, in another life or death situation. He had made a statement so full of confidence, and then that confidence had wavered for just a moment as he asked Rupert that one word. As if Amir ever needed to doubt that Rupert was one hundred percent with him.

“Right.” Rupert stood up, finally able to move. He could feel his limbs again the moment he took Amir’s hand. “We’ll start preparing for the journey at once.”

_To be continued_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay okay so I am very sorry for the ungodly amount of time between this and the first chapter, and I am absolutely certain that I waited too long and built up expectations and so this will be a massive let down for some of you, but I really hope some of you enjoy it if for no other reason than we love seeing anything that depicts our favorite lovebirds! I promise things will get more... well, everything. This is probably the most quiet the story will get.
> 
> All that said, even if this chapter isn't beloved, I still loved writing it so much and that's really enough to make it worth it.


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